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Depression is crying yourself to sleep every night

Not because it feels good, but because it feels

Depression is when the only emotions you are sure exist are anger and sadness

Happiness might exist but it is only a small blimp in time before the sadness returns

Love without happiness devolves into lust so what’s the point of even trying to love

Anger consumes all; anger at the world, anger at the fates,

Anger at the only ones who care

Depression isn’t emptiness

It is much worse

Depression consumes all; even when you have fun, you can’t 

It fuels itself on your misery, therefor it can’t afford for you to have fun 

So you learn to put on a mask every day, to always cover it up

Because with the mask it is stuffy and uncomfortable, 

But no one sees the monster inside

The monster which once let out refuses to be kept inside

It’s even worse when you realize you have done it to yourself

With the defense of I’m ok or I’m fine every time you slip further down

Down in the black gullet of the beast, back into your own shell,

The one made of self-loathing and beliefs that you will never amount to anything

And everything you do is wrong so what’s the point in even trying

But on the outside you wear the mask, and everything is fine

Until the one person comes along; the one who will destroy your system

And as you go from clinging to the cliff face to slowly spiraling down the drain

That person is either oblivious, or thinks that they are helping

Every time the beast is let out due to this person, the shell shrinks

It shrinks until the slightest nudge will shatter the brief control you wrested from the madness

Your shell becomes nothing and the horror that is within becomes clear to all

After this no one will stay and even if they do the monster is inside

Whispering, they will leave you or they don’t really care

So as you can tell, depression isn’t a joke

It’s much, much more.

Author's Note

This is my own personal feeling on this subject